


Good News (He's Dead)

by 3x3



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Final Haikyuu Quest, Gen, M/M, and there's the rest of the ensemble cast but it would be unfair to tag them so, brace yourself this is full of cliches, heeey jess it's that one scene i sent you expanded into a whole fic pls end me, uh;;; manga spoilers of names? like i mention names that are not in the anime yet but that's it, yes the title is a wicked reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-01-24 00:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18560530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3x3/pseuds/3x3
Summary: Go assassinate Oikawa Tooru they said. It will be fun they said.Well, they hadn’t said that exactly, but it was something along those lines.Technically Date got what it wanted, right? Aoba was down, Oikawa Tooru was out of power. Viva la freedom or whatever.So how had Kenji ended up playing caretaker for Date’s biggest foe?





	1. Now your heart is in my hands

**Author's Note:**

> I've... *sighs*  
> This is a story written by myself, for myself  
> I've been wrangling it for a little more than two weeks now (injeong you know this)  
> During that time I've had a huge change of mind and redirected what the story would be about, but the essentials stayed the same  
> This is kind of a personal project, sort of written to test my limits and see how far I've come  
> I hope it might bring a little bit of happiness into your life <3

**Soul Binding** is an Art. It’s about balance and precision, and how much one is willing to share with another. Of course, with magic dying out over the past centuries, the spell has faded into history as well.

There is little information on how the bond actually works.

The most noted research on Soul Binding is a book called  Soul Binding and Its After Effects by  Sugawara Koushi .

Related Entries:  Telepathy,  Active Eternalism 

* * *

 “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Kenji jabbed at the surface of the glass sphere aggressively in sync with each curse, irritation apparent on his scowling brows. “Your prophecy crystal ball is useless.” _Like you_. He added in his mind, still salty about being caught in the current situation. The current situation being: injured, lost, tired, not to mention cranky. He’d hoped the crystal ball would give him their general position, as a good crystal ball should be able to do, but it turned out that this one was busted.

“She doesn’t work that way.” the (former) Grand Demon King, Oikawa Tooru’s idle voice came from behind him. “That’s not an ordinary crystal ball your common mages own.”

“Obviously not.” Kenji rolled his eyes. “A _regular_ crystal actually functions. This one doesn’t.”

“Oh, I can assure you she does.” Oikawa slid in next to Kenji, way more comfortable than he should be under such circumstances. Kenji squirmed from the tickle of where Oikawa’s breath splashed on his bare neck. “Just differently.”

“...Right.”

Kenji’s face must had betrayed his doubt, because Oikawa pursed his lips in disapproval. “I’m not bullshitting you.”

“I didn’t say you were bullshitting me.”

“You were thinking it.” Oikawa insisted.

“And you’re a mind reader now?”

“I wish. It would make communication so much easier, yes?” Oikawa stretched out his limbs, joints making upbeat popping noises. His lithe movements reminded Kenji of a feline: gracefully infuriating. “I heard Nekoma has a mage that knows mind-reading. Maybe we could drop by some time.”

“We? Who said anything about _we_?” He grouched.

“Souls tied together, remember?” Oikawa made a pulling gesture, and a single red thread materialized into view as it tightened on Kenji’s pinky. “You’d really let me roam around by myself with your life attached to mine?”

It flickered, then faded back into nothingness. Kenji glared furiously at the space where it had previously been. Maybe if he just wished hard enough, he could wish that red yarn out of existence.

Why oh why had Kenji been so careless? How had he gotten himself roped (literally) into this? It had only been his third day at work and his workplace had already broken down, his boss supposedly dead. He’d just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. He’d been in the middle of his assassination mission when Karasuno’s armies marched through the front gates. Oikawa had plucked Kenji right out of his hiding space and smiled at him, wide and terrifying. He had closed his hands around Kenji’s, intertwining their fingers together, then said, _“Tag, you’re it.”_

And now he was stuck with his mortal enemy of a boss. Cue the fanfare.

“By the way, what kind of dumbass rule is it that the shared pain only goes in one direction of the bond?” he couldn’t help but grumble.

“One that I modified myself.” Oikawa looked irksomely pleased with himself. “I _was_ the Grand Demon King for a reason. Now tell me, from what mannerless little land of uncultured fools did you emerge? That’s where we’re headed, yes?”

“Why do you want to know?” He growled defensively.

Oikawa grinned all too merrily. “Why, thank you for asking!” he reached into the air and pulled. From his nails, silvery lines and shapes started rushing out, twisting and bending enthusiastically as if stoked to be wasted on something as trivial as part of the visual aids for a completely unwanted presentation. “A recent incident that resulted in the loss of my title, crown, and dignity-” mini drawings of a throne, a crest, and a scepter respectively flashed by dutifully, before breaking off into sparkling shards, then blown away into the winds.

“-may have enlightened me on the fact that I might not have been the most approachable boss slash monarch.” A sparkly frowny face gleamed sorrowfully. “So here I am, making an effort to get to know one of my employees. After my head or not, I don’t discriminate.” He rubbed his palms together, the last traces of the shining silver dots diminishing into dust. He slid into a more comfortable pose after rearranging the boulder behind his back with a twirl in his finger. The fire flared up a little brighter. He held his chin up with the heels of his palms,and shuffled forward expectantly. “So, are you going to tell me or not?”

He was asking, but did Kenji have a choice or not? Obviously not. He knew that already, but admitting it out right in his mind made it more depressing.

So Kenji breathed deep. _Deeeeeep. Keep it in._ He coaxed at himself. _Entertain him, even if you want nothing more than to throttle his skull in._

...Great Furudate grant him strength.

“Date.” He replied reluctantly. There was no point to hide it anyway. “I’m going back to Date.”

“Date?” the demon sneered, face turning sour quicker than the flutter of a hummingbird’s wing. “I thought I’d wiped Date off the map already.”

Blood rushed to Kenji’s ears in an instant. He could _feel_ his anger bubbling up, hear the gurgling sounds they made as they wriggled and boiled from the pit of his stomach. “Well you thought wrong, asshole.” he spat. “Date lives, and if you dare show your face, we’ll be sure to fuck it up.”

Oikawa hummed, not particularly bothered. He narrowed his eyes, looking thoughtful. “So, you’re an assassin from Date. Care to tell me your direct officer’s name?” he questioned. “Really incompetent, I must say. Allowing an _assassin_ to get so close to me. I mean of course the crows beat you to the chase, but still,” he opened up his arms to make a point. “ _huge_ security breach. Looks like I’ve not no choice but to have their head.”

Kenji remembered seeing his superior in the heat of the battle, remembered seeing him with a spear struck through his stomach, still hanging on by some sort of adrenaline high, a triumphant battle cry ripping from his throat. The blood loss had been irreversible, though. Never mind that tragic bastard.

“You’re not having anyone’s head here.” Kenji reminded him. “You were overthrown, remember?”

At _that_ , Oikawa sighed, shaking his head. “The _nerve_ of some people.” he complained. “Karasuno doesn’t know what they’re doing.”

As if _Oikawa_ knew what _he_ was doing.

“Irrelevant. You’re still no longer the king. You’re lucky you managed to duck out before you got killed.” Kenji replied flatly.

_Lucky_. Of course, it had been no _luck._ It had all been part of Oikawa’s plan, because he always had a plan, apparently.

There had been a sense of bone-chilling dread up Kenji’s spine when he witnessed the red yarn spring out, latching on tightly onto the his pinky. But what had overridden the terror was the sheer _confusion_. He knew about soul-binding. Everyone did. It was a spell meant for _communication_ , as it delivered physical pain as well as intense emotions from one end to the other. It was a sacred and intimate act between _life-long partners_. Then why…?

That had been the moment he realized that the other end of the string hadn’t fastened itself around Oikawa’s pinky, but rather stretched on, disappearing into his chest.

“ _Futakuchi Kenji._ ” Apart from the initial shock of Oikawa _knowing his name_ , came the unwelcome sliver of giddy thrill that he’d been _remembered_.

“ _You’re a spy, aren’t you?_ ” Oikawa had grinned at him. “ _Surely you have the best escape routes mapped out. Lead the way._ ”

And what choice had Kenji had but to obey?

It had been no luck, but it didn’t mean that the process had been _easy_.

Kenji looked up at Oikawa now, battered and bruised, several tears littering across his clothes. Dark, dried blood stains splashed a pattern on his... well, everywhere. Demon king or not, Oikawa looked about as ragged as any human who got caught in the midst of crossfire.

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” Oikawa smiled. “Now all there’s left to do is for me to get back in power and kill all those who’ve defied me.”

Kenji snorted. “Like _that’s_ happening anytime soon.”

Oikawa scowled at him. “Zip it. I’m not paying you to quip at me.”

“You’re not paying me at all. You faked your own death and snatched me as hostage against myself, declaring me as your minion.”

“You are an awful minion.”

“I’m not your minion.”

Oikawa let out a long, insufferable whine. “Why do I keep you around then?”

“You’re more than welcome to leave. Just remove the bond and we can go on our separate ways.” Kenji said without missing a single beat, served with his best customer-service smile. “You know what? I’d even promise not to try and kill you if you just removed the bond.”

“How very kind and noble of you.” Oikawa draped a dramatic hand over his heart. “You really do know how to make a guy swoon. But I’m afraid I have to inform you regrettably that there’s no removing the soul bond.”

“Excuse me?”

Oikawa tilted his head. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the soul-binding spell. It connects souls, and it’s _irrevocable._ That’s why it’s not more widely used.”

Kenji made a strangled noise at the back of his throat. “I thought this is your modified version of the spell.”

“It is. But all I did was alter the direction, nothing else.”

Kenji could only gawk at the demon in horror. “You are the single most irresponsible creator I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you. I try.” Oikawa responded smoothly.

Something in Kenji’s brain snapped. “You know what? I’m not buying it.” he proclaimed. “I know a guy. He’s going to help me remove this.” He held down Oikawa’s gaze, a silent challenge. It wouldn’t matter whether Oikawa opposed or not, he was _going_ to get rid of the stupid soul bond.

Oikawa merely shrugged. “A little hurtful that you value our connection so little, to be honest. But well. Suit yourself.”

“After that I’m going to Date.” Kenji informed him, “And you can do whatever you want.”

“I’m telling you.” Oikawa rolled his eyes. “It’s not going to work. Which means I’m going to have to follow you back to Date, unless you plan on going somewhere else.” He chortled, wagging his right pointer in rhythm, making a tiny chunk of twig dance in the air. “I’m a little surprised, honestly. I thought someone like you would want to travel the lands instead of settling down back home.”

“What do you mean, _someone like me_ ?” A flare of annoyance leaped up inside of Kenji. This was the type of thing Oikawa Tooru did, just _assume_ things about people he didn’t know. It only added to his frustration that Oikawa had been _right_ . Kenji would much rather be wandering outside for the rest of his life than be forced to stay confined in Date. But as it were, all he could do was to recite the age-old speech, overused words that had long lost their significance. “My duty is first and foremost to my own people. Moniwa- _san_ ’s gonna whip my ass if I dare do anything as irresponsible as dying on the people in Date.”

“So you mean you’re going to just go back home and be a good and responsible model citizen?” Oikawa huffed, hunching in his shoulders like some young maiden scorned by her lover. The mid-air twig started lurching around erratically. “Boring.”

Kenji exhaled, exasperated. He wasn’t going to dignify that schoolyard taunt with a response. Moniwa- _san_ would be proud of him for holding it down. Kamasaki- _san_ , on the other hand, would no doubt snicker, _I told you sending him off to the army oughta do the little brat some good._

“I’ve already done more than what is expected of me for you.” He said. “I think it’s enough, but because I am a generous and all around nice person, I’ll do you one last solid and help you settle down. What are your current plans?”

Oikawa gave a noncommittal grunt, dropping his little midair twig dance. Instead he leaned back, crossing his arms stubbornly.

Kenji sighed. Dealing with Oikawa was like trying to herd a flock of very self-centered pigeons into a single crate: messy and never easy. And like herding pigeons, Kenji had to be patient. “I can contact your protege Yahaba Shigeru if you’d like.” he offered like the truly good person he was, not because he wanted Oikawa out of his hands as quickly as possible, though that definitely was a huge motivator. “We’re on relatively friendly terms. You’d at least be safe with them.”

“No.”

His eye twitched. “No?”

“That’s still in Aoba. There are too many mages roaming around the place. I alert one of them, I’d have the whole pack on my back.”

“Then what _are_ you doing?”

“I told you.” Oikawa announced unceremoniously, leaping to his feet and dusting off his ridiculous cape.

“I’m going with you to Date.”

How did Oikawa manage to say the most outrageous proposals and keep a self-righteous straight face? “And what was that decision based on?”

“My chances of surviving.” Oikawa said, throwing Kenji a patronizing look, like Kenji couldn’t have asked a dumber question.

“Okay.” Kenji cleared his throat. “I hate to break it to you, but I think there’s a small detail you might’ve missed in your calculations.”

“I don’t know what you are referring to, but I assure you that I have only my best interests at heart. Thank you for worrying about my safety.” Oikawa smiled sharply, as if that could make him a bigger ass than he already was. “They think Date is nothing but a huge wasteland now, because I supposedly destroyed it, just like how I supposedly am dead right now. No one will find me there.”

“Date hates you.” Kenji interrupted. “I was referring to the fact that my entire city loathes you with a burning passion.”

Could you really blame them? Oikawa Tooru was the monster that _obliterated_ the place all those years ago, _unprompted_ . Oikawa Tooru was a heartless _demon,_ a merciless killing machine. Oikawa Tooru was not a name that could be simply uttered in the absence of blood-boiling _rage_ and/or _fear._ Oikawa Tooru was a Word mothers dropped to spook their children into behaving properly, and it was _effective,_ because Oikawa Tooru _had happened once_.

Kenji didn’t want to get behind any sorcery that could get those uncontrollable children to quiet down in a snap.

“They can and will bury an ax in your head and hang your horns on the gates as a war prize. And they will probably end up selling your heart on a black market auction as a cuisine ingredient for hate food.”

“Your people eats hearts of enemies just for the heck of it?”

Kenji shrugged nonchalantly. It was a traditional dish. “Point is, if they figure out who you are, and they _will_ if you try so much as show up, they are going to want to butcher you.”

“No different from my own country then. I’m sure I’ll feel right at home.” Oikawa’s laugh was bright with amusement, but his eyes were flat as a lake. “But first things first.” He flicked his wrist, and the previously stamped as useless crystal ball hummed to life, jerking out of Kenji’s lap and flying over to Oikawa’s outstretched palm. A low power was humming from the sphere ominously. “Where is this ‘guy you know’ at?”

Kenji thought about it. Really _thought._ It was hard to say, actually. Shirabu Kenjirou didn’t always stay in one place for too long. As a high ranking officer at Shiratorizawa’s headquarters, he didn’t have the freedom most mages possessed. It would be hard to catch him alone. Kenji told all that to Oikawa, who pressed his mouth into a thin line.

“Ah. Shiratorizawa. Can’t say I’m the biggest fan of the kingdom. Your guy is a mage as well, yes?” Oikawa said, disdain plain in his voice.

Kenji nodded his confirmation.

Oikawa clicked his tongue. “Alright. Conjure your guy in you mind. Really focus on him, how he looks, what he sounds like, all that gist. The more descriptive, the better.” He reached out and grabbed Kenji’s hand, placing it on the surface of the sphere. It was surprisingly cold. Then it started emitting heat. Kenji tried not to gape at the glowing sphere underneath his fingers because it would made him look like a fool. Instead, he thought intently about Shirabu’s classic face of disgust.

And there it was, staring right back at him in the crystal.

“...Futakuchi.”

“Shirabu.” he greeted. “How are you these days?”

“Terrible. Even more so now that you’ve rung. How did you get yourself a crystal?”

“Yeah. That’s kind of part of my problem. I was hoping you could help.”

Shirabu pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked like he was suppressing every murderous motif swirling inside his head, which, knowing Shirabu, was _countless_ , at any given time of the day. “I knew a social call was too good to be true.”

“Aww.” Kenji couldn’t help but throw him a shit-eating grin. “If you wanted social calls, you should’ve said something earlier.”

Shirabu was not impressed. “What do you want? Spill.”

Kenji didn’t let too much information spill. All he revealed was that he was with a very powerful and very important magic wielder, and that it was something that had to be solved in person. “I’m on my way back to Date. Could you meet me in Johzenji?”

Shirabu studied him for a second. “Can’t. But if you’re going to Date, I’ll be in Kakugawa in two weeks. Then I’ll stay there for a week. If you make me wait, I’ll kill you.”

“Love you too.”

When he handed the crystal back to Oikawa, the demon was regarding him with a very intrigued expression. “You are friends with the high commander of Shiratorizawa.”

“And?”

Oikawa smiled weirdly, playing with his crystal in his palms. “Nothing.”

Kenji eyed him wearily, but decided not to dig into it. “Right. To Kakugawa it is.” If only they weren’t lost in the middle of the woods. He gave Oikawa a look, hoping it conveyed his request but still maintaining an air of indifference, as to not look desperate. He wasn’t sure how well he managed, but Oikawa chuckled as he pulled up his crystal ball, so probably not as well as he’d liked.

After a beat, a single murky green line struck straight across the surface, then started smearing itself downwards, like a failed paint job. It made no sense to Kenji, but Oikawa was nodding thoughtfully to himself. He tapped on the glassy surface, a clear _click_ can be heard loud and deliberate before the smear vanished. He looked up, expression as carefully unreadable as always.

“Okay. I’ve got the directions. Let’s hit the road.” Oikawa straightened his spine and glanced at Kenji smugly. “Who’s got the upper hand now? You have no idea where we are and I know exactly where we should be headed to. Looks like _you_ need _me,_ instead of the other way around.”

He skipped off with a jolly little tune, tossing his sphere in the air. Kenji stared at him in disbelief, as the ball evaporated into thin air. He shuffled to his feet. It was a _long_ way from home.


	2. It’s easier for us to hide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized I already spoiled parts of it in the tags darn

_ Magic crinkled in his veins. The power he held was pulsing through his bloodstream with each thump of his heartbeat, and it was a part of him. It was all he really owned. _

_ Never mind the storm swirling up in thick, heavy dark clouds up in the sky, twisting and crackled with lightning: a mighty dragon coursing through the air, rippling with overflowing energy. It warned of the coming of a tyrannical ruler. A prophecy. _

_ It was no doubt one of the side effects of his new-found magic. _

_ It danced up his arm, caressing his chest, and filled up his throat like a sickly laughter. _

_ It spilled open over his skin, raw and alive. It was terrifying. It was beautiful. And it was rightfully his. Because it was thrust upon him. Because he’d claimed it as his own. Because when it answered upon his call (it always did), it would be an exhilarating rush, and he got drunk on the feeling. _

_ He could feel himself changing, changing, changing, into someone he couldn’t recognize. _

_ Magic was dangerous. Magic could kill. _

_ And he couldn’t imagine parting with it ever. _

* * *

 

Kenji knew better than to hope to keep his peace and quiet throughout the entire trip, but he couldn’t help but mourn its passing when Oikawa started yapping away.

“You know what the problem with you is, Kenji- _ kun _ ?”

“Do not tell me, and do not call me by my given name.”

Of course, he got ignored.

“The problem with you is that you’re too uptight, Kenji- _ kun _ .” Oikawa said, levitating himself in mid-air, which was completely unnecessary and a pretty stupid way to waste energy, if you ask Kenji, but no one had been taking Kenji’s opinions ever since two days ago, coincidentally, when Oikawa Tooru had gotten overthrown and they’d fled the kingdom.

“Uptight?” Kenji echoed. “That is one word that has not been associated with me, ever. Reckless I get a lot. Or sometimes impulsive. But absolutely no one has called me uptight before.”

“Hmm.” Oikawa commented airily, and Kenji didn’t even have to turn to his direction to know that the weird ruffling sensation in his hair was from Oikawa fondling with his magic.

You’d think something as precious and as powerful as magic would be carefully concealed and stored, only to be released in the direst of situations, but no. Apparently it was a false assumption, or maybe it was just Oikawa being Oikawa, because he seemed to be quite determined to use his powers to the fullest for anything and everything.

Kenji hadn’t exactly seen hordes and hordes of magic users before, and the ones that he did know personally, well, they were both very cautious with their magic, never wasteful.

Oikawa shot a distinctly breezy gust of air right at the back of his head, making Kenji jump. He whipped his head abruptly to glare at the demon, who was still wearing the most aggravating grin on his lips. “You should just take it easy.”

“How is any of this easy with you around?” He grumbled, hastening his pace. Well, at least the hair-jostling stopped. “May I remind you that technically I am travelling with the most wanted outlaw throughout the lands who’s dead in every sense but literally? And may I remind you that said outlaw has no sense of self-preservation whatsoever?”

If they so much as slip up, they’d be dead, for real this time. How was it that Oikawa didn’t seem to fully grasp the severity of their situation?

The demon had the audacity to laugh. “Thank you. It’s a talent only the fortunate few possesses.”

Kenji let out a long groan. “Why have I done wrong to deserve such fate? Babysitting an overpowered immortal toddler.”

“You know, fun fact. I’m not immortal.” Oikawa piped up.

Kenji decided to spare him a glance at that revelation, but all he could see was that superfluous cape dangling from above. “You’re not?”

“Nope.” He repeated. “Just another rumor. I age and die like normal people. I’m probably just around your age, actually.” A blink and Oikawa’s smiling face was right in front of Kenji, only upside down, and Kenji had to screech to a sudden brake to avoid slamming full force into the demon. And the asshole had the nerve to wink at him. “So don’t worry if you feel hopelessly attracted to me.”

Kenji scowled, reaching out to drag him down, but Oikawa was quick to dodge. “Dream on.” Kenji answered a beat too late, much to his own frustration.

“Aww, don’t look so glum.” Oikawa landed down behind him, throwing an arm around Kenji’s shoulders with complete disregard of what normal people call personal space. “We’re almost out of the forest.”

“Finally.” Kenji wasn’t even going to waste his effort trying to push Oikawa off. He’d just latch right back on, even tighter, so really what was the point?

“We could’ve finished this walk ages ago if you would just magic me a horse or something.” He complained, calves burning horridly.

“Can’t.” Oikawa said. “Horses are organic. Buy one at Johzenji.”

“You are literally useless.” Kenji shook his head sulkily.  “Aren’t you at least going to hide your horns or something? I am really not in the mood of immediately getting turned to the officials by the first human beings I see in two days.”

“Please.” Oikawa laughed, “As if they could  _ possibly _ capture me.” His voice lifted and twisted itself. It seemed to come from every direction all at once. “But I’ll do it.”

When Kenji turned to look at what Oikawa was up to, he was met the face with a smiling girl, eyes rounder and a shade lighter than Oikawa’s dark brown. The girl’s- Oikawa’s- side ponytail bounced with his steps, which were falling unnaturally in the air, about 20 centimeters off the ground.

“Just for you.” Oikawa’s voice was an octave higher, and could almost be described as sweet. Almost, if Kenji didn’t know who was under that glamour.

“Human feet stay on the ground.” he warned.

Oikawa made a great deal of rolling his eyes, which made the cute girl he was playing significantly less convincing, but dropped to the ground obediently. “The things I do for you.”

“The things I do for  _ you _ .” Kenji retorted, taking advantage of Oikawa’s new, shorter height and ruffled his hair, messing up his pristine side ponytail. Oikawa screeched in protest, then began patting down his hair frantically. He glared up at Kenji, but it really didn’t have the same intimidating streak as before, now that it was from below him. Kenji fought back a complacent smile. “So, who are you again?”

“Nametsu Mai.” He reported, linking his arm through Kenji’s and resting his head on Kenji’s side. “I fled from the crumbling walls of Aoba to escape the uprising and got lost in the large forests of Sendai, where I met you, a dark and mysterious stranger who claimed to be a hunter. You were kind enough to offer to escort me back to my homeland in Wakutani, since you were headed in that direction as well. I might or might not have a thing for you since that time I caught you with your shirt off.” He grinned widely, canines apparent and all. “Cute persona, right?”

“You’ve never seen my shirt off.” Kenji said.

“ _ Damn _ , Kenji _ -kun _ .” Oikawa gave an obnoxious whistle. “You’re offering to take your shirt off so I can better grasp my character? I accept.”

“I am not taking my shirt off.”

“Worth a shot.” Oikawa shrugged as they reached the outskirts of Johzenji. “Just remember to defend my honor if someone flirts with me. ”

* * *

 

They made haste through the town, keeping mostly to themselves. Johzenji was a little too lively, and oftentimes too brash, not even sparing the travelers. While Kenji would be charmed under normal circumstances, and might even indulge in the festive atmosphere by himself, they weren't exactly in the position to march around drawing attention to themselves.

On their way they were almost pulled into a parade- twice.

“What are you celebrating?” Oikawa had asked, fluttering his lashes and giggling. He was pulling it off better than Kenji had expected. Then again, he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting.

A blonde youth danced by ecstatically. “ _ Life _ , little miss.  _ Life _ !” He took Oikawa’s hand and gave him a twirl before vanishing into the swarm of partying people.

The horde of people surge forward down the street, and the entire town seemed to be full of life and sounds.

“Imagine his reaction when he finds out that it was Oikawa Tooru he just spun.” Kenji nudged Oikawa, who tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear gracefully.

“Please, he’d be utterly floored.” He sniffed. “Now buy me that adorable ribbon over there. It matches this lovely dress.”

“Wh-  _ How did you get that dress _ ?” Kenji spluttered. He specifically remembered not seeing Oikawa with a dress when he first transformed, because he was musing about how silly that stuffy cape had looked with Oikawa’s shrink in height. But now in the place of that dumb black suit and flowing cape that was almost dragging on the ground, was a simple green one-piece dress. It hugged the girl’s figure nicely, dipping down to dangle just above the knees.

“Magic.” Oikawa waved his hands in vague, circular motions. He skipped to a stop in front of the stand. “Hey, Iwamuro- _ san _ .” He called out, all high-pitched and sugary. “Look at this pretty ribbon! Isn’t it the most elegant thing you’ve ever seen?”

_ Me? _ Kenji widened his eyes skeptically.

Oikawa tipped his chin and looked at Kenji pointedly, prompting him to catch on. Kenji gave in grudgingly and inched his way towards the cart. “Which one is it?”

“Ah, nice choice.” An auburn-haired girl came out from behind the cart curtains. “Runa- _ chan _ made that herself, didn’t you?” she pushed a timid, light-haired girl forwards gently, who blushed madly and nodded meekly.

“Really?” Oikawa gushed, rushing forward to clasp the girl’s hands. “That is amazing! Iwamuro _ -san _ did you hear that?” He looked back at Kenji, eyes sparkling. Kenji wondered how much of it is actually heartfelt. “She  _ made _ this!”

“I have ears.” Kenji said to him dryly. Then, in a warmer tone, to the girl. “It’s really pretty.” He said, even though he didn’t really have the slightest idea of what an average ribbon should look like, despite growing up with two fashionable (in their own words) sisters in the house.

“It’s not that big of a deal.” the girl- Runa _ -chan- _ had a really soft voice. She ducked her face even lower, making her volume even lower, to the point that it would be indecipherable if Kenji didn’t put his whole focus on her. “I like your dress.”

“Thank you, I made it myself.” Oikawa beamed with a tint of smugness that Kenji knew how to pick apart by now, even though he really hadn’t known Oikawa for long.

He supposed intensive exposure to the demon and all his quirks had unknowingly plagued him with more Oikawa Tooru related information than he would’ve liked having.

He turned to Kenji now, expression playfully accusatory. “You see, Iwamuro _ -san _ ? Just because you don’t recognize talent doesn’t mean the whole world is blind.”

“I never said I  _ didn’t  _ like your dress.” Kenji defended himself, taking closer notes to Oikawa’s dress. Dark green, short-sleeved. A stash was wrapped around where the waist was, a lighter, grassy color in contrast to the deeper shades of the fabric. It looked like summer, which he found silly, because dresses couldn’t be seasons, obviously. At the bottom of the skirt laid a delicate pattern of crisscrossing stitches piling up neatly. He supposed it  _ would be _ pretty impressive if Oikawa had made it himself like he claimed, not that Kenji would know because he’d never hand-sewn a dress before. Or really hand-sewn anything.

Oikawa was still griping when Kenji figured he should tone back in the conversation. “-And here I thought I was just losing my touch. Back at Wakutani, everyone admired my handiwork.” He turned back to the girls. “Can you believe this-” he elbowed Kenji in the ribs, drastically harder than an average girl should be able to. “big lump of wood didn’t even notice my new dress? After I dragged him to help pick out the cloth too.”

“Okay, now you’re just trying to guilt-trip me into buying something nice for you.” Kenji relented, playing along to his script. “How much for the ribbon?”

“Well, Runa- _ chan _ ?” the first girl poked her companion gently. “It’s your call.”

“Oh.” she looked kind of startled, and stood there red faced and stammering for a few seconds before finally managing to piece out a coherent sentence, squeaking out, “-You can have it.”

Oikawa’s eyes went comically wide. “Are you sure? Because that’s not really the proper way to run your business, and I really want to give you the credit you deserve.”

The girl nodded firmly, head bobbing violently.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Oikawa told her enthusiastically. “Will you help me put it on?”

The girl broke into a smile, and with a quick flick of her wrist, she  nimbly fastened it into a bow, weaving the ribbon through Oikawa’s ponytail.

He looked down at it happily, then he turned to Kenji. “How do I look?”

“Stunning.” He answered in the flattest tone he could manage. From personal experience with his sisters at home, he knew that whatever answer he gave, it would never be the correct thing to say.

Oikawa sighed loudly, and directed himself back towards the shopkeepers. “He really is hopeless, isn’t he?”

“He’ll learn.” the auburn-haired one smiled. “Don’t worry, you look lovely, miss.”

“That’s what I said.” Kenji argued.

“Sure it is.” Oikawa stuck out his tongue. “Come on, Iwamuro _ -san _ . We should get going.” He tugged at Kenji’s right hand.

The sudden contact was almost startling. The girl’s fingers were thin and warm.

It made Kenji think about the day he’d pledged his loyalties to Aoba and started his life as a spy. He thought about how warm Oikawa’s fingertips had been back then, where they’d settled in a feather-light touch on the patch of skin where neck meets shoulder. Though the pressure and touch felt different, the lively hum jumping under his skin was alarmingly familiar.

“Can you recommend a good place to stay for the night?” Oikawa addressed the shopkeepers. “We’re sort of on a tight schedule, and we’d really appreciate a well-rested night.”

“Okudake’s.” the auburn-haired girl offered. “Just down that lane over there. Best place in this rowdy town.”

“Oh.” Oikawa smiled widely, ducking his head in a tiny bow. “Thank you two both so so much for everything.”

“Enjoy your stay at Johzenji!” The girls waved them off warmly.

As they were walking away, Kenji heard Oikawa talk extra loudly. “Can we come back to Johzenji after we get to Wakutani? I’d really like to learn how to make ribbons from Runa _ -chan _ .”

“You’re thinking way too far ahead, Nametsu- _ san _ .” Kenji replied easily.

Then after they’d put some distance between themselves and the shopkeepers, in a smaller voice, Oikawa asked. “Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I even found us a place to sleep tonight.”

“Which I’m sure we could’ve figured out anyway without you stomping around and drawing attention.” Kenji flicked him on the forehead.

His only reaction to that is a half of a boyish smirk. “Are you thoroughly and fully bewitched by my skills to charm through everything?”

“...Mildly impressed.” Kenji admitted with difficulty.

Oikawa chortled. “It’s not too late to change your mind about cutting the bond.”

“Not a chance.” Kenji deadpanned. “What is your obsession with that ribbon anyway?”

A shadow cast across his face.

Kenji held his breath in anticipation. Was there really a purpose to Oikawa’s seemingly meaningless actions?

“Well.” He said finally. “It really does look nice on me.”

Alright then.


	3. There are thoughts that I can't put to rest

_It came without any sort of warning._

_It wasn’t his fault! It wasn’t! It wasn’t his fault that  he was desperate to get help! It wasn’t his fault that the only help he could think of was Iwa-_ chan _all the way in Aoba! It wasn’t his fault that he ran into a nice happy family on the way! It wasn’t his fault that it made him think about his own family! It wasn’t his fault that suddenly he was reliving the storm and the dirty water and his house falling apart! It wasn’t his fault that he grew upset!  It wasn’t his fault that he grew resentful! It wasn’t his fault that his powers jumped out from his skin!_

_It wasn’t his fault that the family was now dead._

_It wasn’t his fault that he lost control._

_What was he to do? All he_ could _do was curl up in a corner of his mind and try to stop the quivering as the magic overwhelmed him, sparking off maniacally._

_He didn’t even dare lift his head._

_He only felt helpless._

* * *

 The next few days had been somewhat uneventful. They left Johzenji early the following morning, after purchasing a fine steed from the market.

He was black all over, with only tufts of white fur around his hooves and nuzzle. Oikawa named him Yuki, _snow,_ which made absolutely no sense whatsoever, but Kenji knew that arguing would be a fruitless labor.

It took them another five days to reach Tokonami. There they lingered for two days, sharpening Kenji’s sword and restashing their food supply. It was a quiet town, small and cozy the way a childhood nursery was.

Oikawa had also started calling him Tougo- _kun_ as part of their cover-up, and asked to be called Mai- _chan_ in return.

 _What’s up with the honorific drop?_ Kenji had asked once in private.

 _To progress the story, duh._ Oikawa had rolled his eyes. _To show the relationship_ blossoming _. Nametsu Mai and Iwamuro Tougo are on a first name basis now, because they’ve been through so much together. Honorifics sound way too formal. It’s subtlety in storytelling, Ken-_ chan _, not that you would be able to notice._

 _Do not call me Ken-_ chan.

There _had_ been a group of bandits that tried to take a stab at them, but Kenji had barely gotten the time to unsheathe his blade before Oikawa took the entire gang out with a single snap in their direction.

 _Hmm. Only 18?_ He’d remarked condescendingly. _They’d have to try_ much _harder than that._

(That was the magic that took out his home. It was bile in Kenji’s throat.)

The next stop was Ohgiminami, a generally slothful town. No one seemed to be particularly interested in anything. Even the fire seemed to flicker lazily in the street lamps.

Dirty and tuckered out from being on the road, there was nothing more appealing than a bed, and that was exactly what greeted the pair when they opened the door to their inn room. A bed. A _single_ bed.

Granted, it was a double-sized bed, but _still_.

 _Who was running this place?_ Why did they think it was a good idea to assign a room with a _single_ bed to them. A grown man and a grown woman. A _single_ bed. _What_?

It was impolite to just _assume_ they were together! Just because Nametsu Mai was basically hanging off Iwamuro Touga’s arm earlier at the service desk did not mean they were a couple. Had they not considered the possibility that Iwamuro Touga might had been some sort of commissioned bodyguard of Nametsu Mai, who might had been a lady from a rich family?

But no matter how much Kenji cursed at the dirtbag of a staff inside his mind, (or rather, the friendly-looking young man at the front desk, with a chipper voice and three streaks of dark locks sticking on the top of his head. Kenji wondered if he was a secret magic user as well, to be able to defy the laws of nature like that.) there was nothing he could do about the current situation. The inn had a clear policy of no refunds and no switching rooms written right on the walls.

“I’m taking the bed.” Oikawa was quick to voice.

“Nope.” Kenji immediately shot that stake into the dirt before it could settle. “Nope. I did all the work and the heavy lifting on this trip while you pranced around in your frilly dress. You can sleep on the floor.”

“But I’m _royalty_. I can’t survive without a bed.” he wrinkled his nose. “Plus. You wouldn’t have the heart to make a fragile girl sleep on the cold, hard ground, would you?” he lowered his lashes, trying his best to look sympathetic. It would’ve worked on anyone who was not Kenji. But as he was, he merely shifted his weight into a less tiring posture, ready to fight for his rights even if it took him all night. Of course, it would be preferable if Oikawa could just give him the bed.

“You’re really enjoying this sweet pure little girl act, aren’t you?”

“What?” Oikawa flashed him a toothy beam, swinging his hips, not at all lady-like, and certainly not how he behaved around other people. “Like you’re not completely devoted to your dark, brooding protector role. I swear your voice is getting lower every day.”

“You’re delusional.” He shoved him and he yelped, toppling over, but not without yanking Kenji and pulling him down with him. Kenji shut his eyes, bracing for impact, but miraculously, it never came. He creaked open an eyelid, just to find himself floating in the air.

Huh.

He looked down and Oikawa grinned up at him from beneath, back to his usual form, horns catching the light in an ethereal glow.

“Why, Kenji- _kun_.” He teased. “Are you trying to come on to me? Or are you trying to come on to _Nametsu Mai_?”

“Put me down.” Kenji grouched. “ _Slowly._ ”

“Only if you let me take the bed.” he bargained, letting wisps of his magic slide up Kenji’s sides. He squirmed.

“That’s not- You can’t just force me into surrendering the bed.”

“Sure I can.” Oikawa said, without a hint of remorse in his voice. “So we have a deal?”

“I never agreed to-”

Kenji flopped face down and crashed into a mouthful of stiff mattress. He struggled to get up so he could glower at Oikawa properly. “Where did this mattress come from?”

“Like I said.” Oikawa swung his feet high up into the air. “Magic.” He waved his hands dismissively. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I’m not thanking you for this crummy mattress that’s totally going to give me cramps.” Kenji muttered under his breath.

If Oikawa heard it, then he was at least gracious enough to ignore it, instead of vanishing the mattress back to wherever it came from. He must be taking pity on Kenji.

“You never answered my first question.” Oikawa said instead.

It took him a second to recall the question, and another second to conjure up his iconic Face Of Utter Disgust. “Neither.” Kenji flipped him off. “You are truly fresh from the throne of hell.”

“Wrong again.” Oikawa clicked his tongue. “Fun fact number two: I was not born demon. For the first twelve years of my life, I was a normal little boy just like you! Well, I’m sure I was better-looking, but apart from that, just like you! It’s the reason why I can still age and die, actually.” There was a grim taste in his words that was so faint that it made Kenji uncertain if he was just imagining it.

He wasn’t sure what kind of reaction Oikawa was expecting from him, he just knew that he would not be able to comply, due to how sore his shoulders and butt felt from all the horse-riding.

He waited for some sort of follow-up to that statement, but Oikawa seemed to be done talking, shoulders hunched and an odd smile at the edge of his mouth.

“Cool.” Kenji tossed out. If Oikawa wasn’t about to go on, Kenji wouldn’t bother digging. It was getting late anyway. “Now let me sleep already.”

At least Oikawa stopped trying to pester him. “You’re no fun, Ken- _chan_ .” Oikawa complained, but put out the lights with a snap. “Good night, Ken- _chan._ ”

* * *

 When the next morning arrived, they were once again on their way.

“Do we _have_ to go through _every_ town on the way?” Kenji couldn’t help but complain as he hacked down another weirdly grown branch blocking the path. “I know it’s good for recharging and yeah there are beds and beds are dope, but honestly it’s not very necessary. It’s just slowing us down.”

Oikawa hovered a little ahead of him, dragging a lazy finger to relocate the snapped branch back in place.

The pace was even slower than usual today, and time felt sluggish, drenching everything in a drowsy blanket of idleness. The sun sprayed slivers of dazzling light through the gaps between the leaves.

It was awfully tranquil for a world that had just been through a major shift in power.

“If there are unconvinced troops trying to scrounge out any remaining force of mine, they would never suspect a pair of unhurried travelers stopping at every town along the way, now would they?” Oikawa replied leisurely. “It’s called reverse psychology. I read it in this book once.”

“You read? Shocking.”

Oikawa either didn’t catch the insult or didn’t mind it. “I am a man of many mysteries.”

Travelling with Oikawa Tooru was an experience, with or without the bit about him being a former demon king on the run.

For one thing, he was far too jovial for an overthrown monarch. Kenji wouldn’t know for sure, but he imagined that if he were the one travelling with a bloke who tried to stab him, he’d be much more concerned about the bloke’s credibility, even if they _were_ bound by their souls.

He’d asked Oikawa about it once, and only gotten a carefree smile and a chilling reply in return.

“If you value your own life, you wouldn’t dare do anything to me.”

That was the other thing, that he would go cold and frigid in an instant. Like he was desperate to draw up any barrier, to put distance between himself and the rest of the world.

Oikawa was a strange case.

He was always well-guarded in his postures and language, betraying absolutely nothing he hadn’t intentionally uncovered, and he was always too quick for Kenji. Whenever Kenji would catch onto something Oikawa said, and think _finally, maybe I finally have him figured out_ , Oikawa would slip out, and Kenji would be a second too late to pin him down, always. He wore heavy covers, layer upon layer, and they were so put together like his second skin Kenji doubted there’d been _anyone_ who’d seen Oikawa’s bare heart.

It was a little frustrating that Oikawa could probably take half a glance at Kenji and be able to read him like an open book _,_ yet when Kenji would try to decipher Oikawa’s _anything,_ he would fall short.

Oikawa Tooru was a man not easily defined. He was a cacophony of magnificent colors, each fighting to be brighter than the rest. He was not meant to make sense. Kenji had a feeling that he could spend the rest of his life studying the grand puzzle that was Oikawa Tooru and still come to no conclusions.

Sometimes Kenji felt like he would have the rest of his life just for that. That they’d be on this trip forever. That he and Oikawa would just walk and walk and walk and walk to the ends of the universe and never reach Date, and on the way, Kenji would gradually get to see him as he was.

Some days he would wake up from his makeshift bed and not worry about what was waiting for him when he eventually got back home.

Some afternoons he would remember, as weird as it was to say it, the _friends_ he’d made at Aoba, and wonder if they were doing alright or if they were dead corpses buried poorly somewhere in the ground. He didn’t like to linger on those thoughts.

Some nights he lay awake pondering if what he was doing was selfish- as an assassin, it was supposed to be his job to take out his target, no matter the cost, but he’d chickened out the moment his own life went on the line.

You weren’t supposed to get familiar with a target. It would only make the job harder and harder as time stretched on.

Kenji glanced over. And _of course_ Oikawa would be shooting up tiny sparks of flames across his fingertips like the hazard to the entire planet that he was.

(Judging by the way Kenji no longer feel an unquenchable urge to poke a knife between Oikawa’s eyes when he looked at the demon, he had a feeling he was already screwed.)

* * *

Clouds started gathering around the next day, and three days after that, (in which two more assaults had occurred, a 21-person troop and a 16-person assassination guild respectively,) the raindrops fell. Splatters of water shot down from above, coloring the forest in a shade darker than its usual green. Kenji had cursed, tugging Yuki with him to the side, trying to shield himself from the downpour while Oikawa merely laughed and raised his arms upward gleefully, catching the droplets on his fingers, his face, his hair.

“I thought you’d be more revolted.” Kenji called out from under the tree he was taking shelter under. “Screaming about how the rain would ruin your perfectly styled hair or your expensive boots or something.”

“Nothing I can’t repair.” Oikawa laughed cockily. “Come here and stand under this shower of nature with me.” A tug, and Kenji jerked forward, flying right into the opening. Rain plummeted down, weighing down his bangs, and he swept them off his eyes angrily. “Seriously?”

Oikawa reached forward and shoved Kenji’s bangs back over his forehead instead, combing through his hair. Kenji raised his eyebrows quizzically.

“There’s something about pushed-back bangs that makes it a sexy look.” Oikawa explained, as if that was supposed to be explanatory.

If it made Oikawa happy, he supposed.

“Can you at least put up some sort of shield?” Kenji asked. “I know you can do it. You dance in the rain however you like but please leave me out of it.”

“You’re a real killjoy.” Oikawa told him. “Now you have a problem with _rain_? Is it part of your super secret tragic backstory or something?”

“I don’t have a super secret tragic backstory.” Kenji said. “Well apart from the fact that you attacked my home and slaughtered my people, but that’s hardly a secret.”

“I never said I was perfect.” Oikawa shrugged.

Kenji exhaled slowly. There was no point confronting Oikawa about it. What was done could not be reversed, and Kenji would only make himself upset if he pushed on. Instead he kicked a rock and muttered, “What kind of teenage angst level of tragic backstory involves _rain_.”

“Mine does. Fun fact number three.” Oikawa piped up, tone disturbingly perky. “A rain like this took out my house.” he clarified. “I mean obviously not exactly like this. It was a much bigger rain. A storm? Yeah, anyway it caused a flood that wiped out my entire village. There were no survivors. At least I don’t think there were. I died and it made me a demon.” He paused for a second, letting the awkward silence drag on, then drew back. And he marched right on ahead.

Kenji stared, then quickly followed up. Yuki neighed in protest of their neglect, but trotted behind nevertheless.

“You have a really messed up definition of fun.” he said. “Just why do you always do this?”

“Do what?”

“Drop some big secret from your past like it’s nothing when it clearly bothers you.” Kenji said. “And don’t tell me it doesn’t bother you. Because you always try to crack a dumb joke right afterwards.” He gave Oikawa a dirty look when the demon turned back to open his mouth. “It’s fine to be hurt. You were twelve and you were traumatized.”

Oikawa closed his mouth, then opened it again. “Okay. I might be a _little_ bothered.”

“You went on a rampage and made yourself the most well-known villainous king across the land.” Kenji deadpanned. “At age twelve. That was when you single-handedly destroyed Date. I was eleven. Imagine my surprise when I found out years later that the man that demolished my home was no more than a year older than I am.”

“You mean like last week?”

“Yup.”

“Okay. I might’ve overreacted a little bit.” Oikawa admitted reluctantly. “So what?” He picked up a stray petal on the side of his way with his powers, then shredded it into pieces. “What do you want from me? An apology?”

Kenji frowned. “I’m literally just trying to help you.”

“Well, I’ve never asked for your help.”

“You have, actually. You bullied me into taking you to Date.”

“What I asked from you was strictly business. I never asked you to help resolve my childhood issues.” Oikawa’s voice was tight.

“What business?” Kenji called from behind him, where Oikawa was quickening his strides. “I never remembered any sort of deal.”

A spilling bag of gold dropped from the sky and slammed right onto Kenji’s right foot. He cursed out loud in the sudden pain.

“There you go.” Oikawa called back. “You can keep the change.”

“ _I don’t want your stupid money_.” He seethed. Leaving the pile of gold in the middle of the forest, he surged on. Let whatever lucky passerby have it. Kenji couldn’t care less.

“I don’t _need you here._ ” Oikawa’s voice was distorted in the winds. “The moment I got out of my kingdom, you were no longer of use to me. I am the Grand Demon King. Why should I listen to what a failed assassin have to say?”

Kenji’s face felt hot and prickly. “You act like you weren’t the one barging into my personal space and now you’re blaming me because you overshared? I’m just never good enough for you and your double-standards, am I?” A ball of water exploded above his head, dousing him from head to toe. _“Real mature!_ ”

When they got to the next town, the guy at the desk of the inn gave him a sympathetic pat on the arm as Oikawa in his Nametsu Mai persona stomped up the stairs indignantly.

The beds were separate, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mid terms are approaching :))))))))))))))))))))  
> which means it's hard to say when the next chapter will be out oops


	4. You’d rather sleep alone than grow to need me there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mid terms are over and I have deceased  
> here is the new chapter and i need to go pass out and finally get some sleep

_ He was twelve and his world was dead. _

_ He was thirteen and he almost killed his anchor to this world. _

_ He was fourteen and he banished himself to the edge of the world. _

_ He was fifteen and his name was beyond repair. _

_ He was sixteen and he made a legend out of himself. _

_ He’d lost count after that. _

_ The only thing that he knew was that he had a kingdom, and that he was expected to run it. He was a king, but he didn’t feel like one. _

_ He indulged in Shimizu-chan and Kuro-chan’s shenanigans, and his time with them were the only instances he was present in the moment at hand. Companionship was hard to come by. _

_ Other times, he felt like a blank paper, bland and achromatic. _

_ Then his kingdom crashed and he got his hands full with an amateur assassin. _

_ The colors finally started pouring in _ .

* * *

 

They’d finally reached Kakugawa, two weeks and three days later after the initial call with Shirabu.

There was a mage in Kakugawa, and while that would usually be a huge risk to their cover, Shirabu’s presence would be a great help to conceal Oikawa’s prominent aura. Kenji never really quite understood the whole _magical aura_ thing. It was said that magic auras were similar to the concept of a fingerprint: they were like a signature of some sort. Kenji wouldn't know, he wasn't a mage after all. He wasn't sure how much magic one must attain to be able to pick apart different auras, or if the local mage was at that level. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to be cautious, so it was best to keep their profile low and undetected.

That mage in particular owned an enchantment shop. When they passed by the place, they could see rows of crystal balls lining up outside the door. A robed young man with glasses and bandages around his fingers, most likely the mage himself, was stocking them carefully. He gave them each little taps, and watched in satisfaction as tiny words swirled to the surfaces.

Oikawa hurried past, and Kenji couldn’t resist remarking, “You see? That’s how proper crystal balls ought to work.”

“Mine is proper.” Oikawa muttered. “You just haven’t gotten to know her yet.”

“She has pronouns.” Kenji said blankly.

“Now you’re just being disrespectful to Hitoka-chan.” Oikawa said stiffly. “I don’t care what you think. Hitoka-chan is sweet and genuine. No one really listened to her, because they thought that she only sprouted bad news and brought bad luck, but it’s not her fault that it’s just the way future looks like. She’d been left in the back of a storage unit, dusted and lonely before I found her.”

Kenji wasn’t sure if Oikawa was joking or not, but he certainly didn’t want to risk distressing a sentient crystal ball. And there was also the part that he wasn’t really in the mood to hold a conversation with Oikawa after his little outburst. So he kept quiet.

Yuki whinnied, signaling that it was time to eat.

* * *

 

Shirabu was already sitting at a table waiting when they entered the tavern, because apparently he was psychic or something. Or maybe there really was just one single tavern in town.

The pair shuffled down silently, the air static with tension.

Shirabu seemed to be completely unaffected. Instead, he called over a waiter and ordered a black coffee.

No words were exchanged for a long time.

Then the coffee came.

Shirabu stirred his drink idly, taking a small sip. Then he set the cup back down. It made a clink upon contact, loud and clear in their tiny bubble of quietness while the whole world whirred on around them.

“Futakuchi Kenji.” he raised his eyebrows at Kenji. “You look cheery.”

“Observant as always.” Kenji replied humorlessly.

“If you tell me that your ‘problem’ is that you impregnated this girl over here I will personally chuck you into the void.”

Kenji narrowed his eyes. “Four years I’ve known you and you think this lowly of me.”

“Sure, blame me for trying to lighten the mood.” Shirabu took another sip. “Now are you going to explain to me why you’re bound to Oikawa Tooru over there, who, by the way, is supposed to be dead?”

Oikawa seemed to react to that, his head tilted upward in the slightest change of an angle. That was the only indication that he was listening in on the conversation at all.

“What does it matter, as long as you’d undo it?” Kenji responded impatiently.

“That’s the thing.” Shirabu countered calmly. “I can’t undo it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Soul-binding spells are permanent. I thought even you would know that, Futakuchi, as imbecilic as you are.”

Kenji spluttered, trying to make sense of the situation. “I thought you were supposed to be a _good_ mage.” he protested. “I should’ve gone to Akaashi.”

Shirabu let out a long suffering sigh. “Akaashi wouldn’t be able to tell you anything differently. This doesn’t concern whether we are good mages or not. You can’t bend the laws of the universe.”

“I thought you have this Mage’s Code or something.” Kenji tried to reason. “Like, something about not being able to create anything new if you don’t try to break the established.”

“ _A failed mage is one who doesn’t prod the limits._ ” Oikawa and Shirabu chorused. It was the first time Oikawa had said anything since he’d entered the room. Upon the two pair of surprised eyes on him, he shrugged.

“What? I know things.”

Kenji turned back to Shirabu, who remained unfazed.

“That’s only meant to urge us to always be willing to learn, not that we have, or will ever have the power to change fate.” he explained.

“‘Fate’ is awfully dramatic.” Kenji muttered.

Shirabu gave him a blank look. “There’s a reason soulmate-binding spells are so hard to cast, dimwit. There are too many variables.” he listed them off one by one on his fingers. “You have to calculate in the compatibility of all parties involved, the probability of rainfall, the peak temperature of the week, as well as the number of cats in a hundred-meter radius.”

“What the hell.”

“I didn’t come up with the Laws of Soul Binding.” His expression took on another degree of fatigue.

Kenji gaped soundlessly for another beat. “So, bottom line: You can’t help me.”

“Four years I’ve known you and you think this lowly of me.” Shirabu imitated, wrinkling his nose. “I said that I couldn’t undo it. Not that it couldn’t be undone.”

Kenji jolted upright. “How do I undo it, then?” he demanded.

Shirabu only directed his steely gaze at Oikawa, who’d been uncharacteristically mute.

“Ask your demon.” he said to Kenji, without breaking eye contact with Oikawa. “I’m guessing he’s the one who cast it in the first place. This is all in theory, so I may be wrong, but if anyone can deactivate the spell, it’s him. He has the power, he’s in the position, with your consent, it wouldn’t be a problem at all.”

Kenji’s eyes widened. He glared sharply at Oikawa, who was refusing to meet his eyes. Instead, the demon held down the gaze of Shirabu defiantly.

“You’re good at this whole mage thing.” he praised.

“You learn to be when you have a bunch of idiot friends who need you to get them out of trouble.” he answered. Then, to Kenji, “Work this out yourself. I am not actually a marriage counselor.” He’d finished the last of his coffee, and stood up.

“Thanks.” Kenji told him, somewhat reluctantly. “And also please don’t-”

“Tell anyone that Oikawa Tooru is still alive so that literal armies don’t come charging at you?” Shirabu finished, groaning. “Why in Furudate’s name did I swear a pact of secrecy with you rascals?”

He made way through the door, only stopping to tell a waitress to put his drink on their tab.

The new information was certainly… interesting.

* * *

 

They didn’t talk about it. Well, mostly because they didn’t talk, period.

It was weird, having Oikawa be mad at him.

A mad Oikawa was like a prissy cat. Petty, passive-aggressive, and all around more restless than usual. Also, always up to childish revenge. Kenji had already tripped on nothing five times that morning. It was ridiculous.

Oikawa was storming forward up ahead, without even using his powers, caught up in the storm he conjured in his own head. He must be pretty pissed, then. Whatever point he was trying to prove, Kenji wasn’t about to cave. Two can play at that game. Kenji got to his own feet as well, taking Yuki by reins instead. The ground jerked under him and he went toppling down, just barely avoiding Yuki’s trampling hooves of death.

“When are you going to retract it?” Kenji said to him loudly as Oikawa seemed to be insistent on pretending he didn’t exist other than when it was convenient for him to fulfill his spiteful vengeance. “The spell? You know, that you put on me? And lied about not being able to remove? That spell for lifelong companions?”

No response. Okay. That was expected.

“If you want an apology or whatever, I’m sorry for overstepping my boundaries. It was only because I thought it would help. But apparently I’m too less of a being for you to take seriously.”

“Is that your idea of what an apology should be?” Oikawa growled as a rock bounced off Kenji’s head. “Lousy.”

Kenji reached up and winced when his fingers brushed over the spot on the side of his head where he’d just been struck. It was probably going to bruise. Splendid. “Why won’t you accept that you get emotions too?” He asked crossly.

“I’m a demon.” Oikawa said. “Duh.”

“You were human once, weren’t you?”

“And?”

“Humans get emotions.”

“Right.” Oikawa taunted. “Emotions of responsibility, of fellowship. You mean the emotions that allowed me to bind us together? This is why humans can’t be trusted. All I had to do was tweak with how your strong emotions were perceived to complete the soul-binding spell.” Oikawa mocked. “Emotions are too fluid and too easy to manipulate. They’re a danger.”

“ _Then get rid of me._ Release the bond and you won’t have to deal with a stupid, insignificant human.” Kenji spat. “After all, I’m only dragging you down.”

“ _I can’t!_ ” Oikawa bristled snappily. “Too many cats in the area.”

“ _ Fuck you _ .”

The sky thundered above their heads, and Kenji wondered in passing if Oikawa was the cause of it. He tried to picture himself in Oikawa’s place. What was the point of all that power if he didn’t have anyone to share them with? From what he observed during his short stay at the castle, the halls were long and wide and too full of nothing. Oikawa might had had every one of his material needs filled and beyond, but when it came down to it, those were all that he owned, nothing more. Well, nothing more, other than all the curses and ill-wishing against him.

Kenji looked at him, and however of a brat he was, Oikawa Tooru was no blood-thirsty demon. He was just a badly hurt child, and didn’t know how to get better.

What had it been like for him, to grow up like that? Kenji had grown up in hurt, learning to put pieces of his family back together in the death of his parents. But he’d had the rest of the surviving folks with him. They were beaten down and broken, but they had each other, and they built their city again from scratch. Oikawa Tooru had no one but his own shadow and his new-found powers, bursting out hysterically. He’d just lost everything, and now he was stuck with a label he never asked for. The entire world was against this twelve-year-old. He wasn’t a monster. He was only what the world made him.

His own kingdom celebrated his death.

_ What a pathetic, pitiful, parasitic life! _

A low, inhumane screech tore itself from Oikawa’s throat as he gripped his own head. “Your emotions are too loud!” he growled at Kenji, eyes bloodshot. He staggered upright. “Be right back. I need to go kill a batch of cats.”

“Holy Furudate! What is WRONG with you?”

Something flashed in the bush from their right.

“ _Duck!_ ” Kenji shouted as years of assassination reflexes prompted him to chuck a rock at the back of Oikawa’s knee. He buckled over at the impact, a single arrow flew past where his head had been a second ago and lodged itself in the tree on the other side. Yuki trampled nervously, whinnying as Kenji drew his own bow purely based on muscle memory, letting an arrow rip through the air towards their attacker. The dense thump was as clear a sign as any that the arrow had hit its target. No time to dwell on that, he unsheathed his sword with a grunt, feeling the skin on his side break open upon being slashed with a swift dagger. He spun around fervently, a little woozy from the sudden blood loss, the same moment as Oikawa sent his attacker sailing. “Any more?” He asked, every nerve high on alert.

Oikawa’s palms flare. His pinched his thumb and forefinger together, and a scream rang out from above. A third man fell from the tree. “That’s it.” Oikawa confirmed.

That had been it, the battle ending before it had even begun, just like all the past ones had been like. Kenji slumped down, his pulse adjusting back to a steady beat in his veins. He lowered his sword, and limped through the muddy grounds to retrieve his arrow. By some miracle of fate, it hit straight though the throat, killing the man on the spot, and Kenji wasn’t even aiming. He pulled it out and cleaned the blood on the dead man’s shirt. Then he made way back to the main dirt road. Kenji trudged towards Yuki, hushing the spooked horse with soft words and gentle hands. He flinched when he’d put too much strain on the wrong foot, tearing his wound open even wider. He really should be checking that cut, but it felt like too much of a hassle.

Oikawa kicked the man groaning from the ground repulsively. “Really? Three people? An entire army couldn’t catch me, and these three goons thought they could take me.”

“They almost did.” Kenji reminded him. “You were too busy on the hunt to slaughter innocent creatures.”

“Ken-” Oikawa’s eyes grew alarmed when he finally noticed the splotches of red coloring the ground.

Kenji cut him off, head reeling, still too tense at the moment. Tremors traveled over his skin. “Let’s just find some place to stay the night. Yukigaoka should be right up ahead.”

He didn’t look back as he shuffled forward, pulling at Yuki’s reins gently. The horse complied, clopping forward skittishly.

When Kenji remembered to check on Oikawa, he had transformed back into Nametsu Mai.

Another day, another act.

A light sprinkle drizzled down. Rain again. Kenji was getting real sick of rain.

* * *

 

The sizzling pain in his wound dulled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coming up next chapter: fluff. just. fluff. way too much fluff tbh  
> we're getting close to the end


	5. Part of me is a question, can't answer it on my own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as promised: 2k words of them just being s oft

_His crystal hummed restlessly._

_He sat down next to her, smoothing over her surface._ What is it?

_She hissed, static clouding over. She spoke of his downfall, of his kingdom breaking apart._

Well, ought to happen sooner or later. _He soothed her._

_She somewhat calmed down marginally, stretching the wisps of smoke in her orb indecisively, like she was contemplating something._

It’s okay. Just give it to me.

_He is to meet his soulmate on the day of his downfall._

* * *

Maybe it was the low hanging inn light or something. Or maybe it was the humid air of the afternoon shower still hovering about. Maybe it was the sunset catching on the windowsill, painting the floor with an orange sprinkle. Maybe it was the stiffness of his back, being on his feet the entire day. It could’ve been a lot of things, in the end, or maybe it only could’ve been one thing all along, that when Kenji finally shed his heavy get-up and flopped onto the bed, Oikawa followed quietly and pliantly, sitting down beside him. He was male again.

It was a long day, Kenji was drained, both physically and emotionally.

Oikawa loomed over him, blocking out the dimly lit yellow light, and he squinted.

“Are you okay?” he asked Kenji tentatively, uncharacteristically considerate.

“I thought we were keeping our business lives and personal lives apart.” He mumbled.

“You’re mad at me.” Oikawa frowned.

“ _You’re_ mad at _me_.” Kenji replied.

“Not anymore.” he said. “I’m sorry for drawing the line. I was insecure and I acted out to what I thought would protect me. It’s easier to numb everything than to face them. I’m sure you relate. I’m trying to reach out to you here. Are you okay?”

Kenji reached up and stretched out his limbs. Everything ached. His side still stung. “Peachy.” He made a face.

“Thank you back there.” Oikawa said. Shadows spilled over his back lit face, making his expression unreadable. “I guess it didn’t really hit me how much you’re doing for me until earlier today. You’re actually putting your life on the line for me, even if you sort of have no choice on the matter. Thank you.”

“I am a moron for sticking around.” Kenji said. “If it were anyone else I’d just leave them in a ditch and die. Too high maintenance.”

It was a moment too late when he realized what he had just admitted to. Oikawa certainly caught on, judging but the sudden stillness of his frame.

“If it were anyone else, you said.” Oikawa pronounced, steady and deliberate. “May I interpret that as proof that I am special to you?”

“Nope. I am not dealing with semantics and wordplay right now.” Kenji was quick to counter. “I am loopy, and you heard nothing. Now let me pass out in peace before I spill any more embarrassing secrets.”

“But Kenji-”

“You heard nothing.” he insisted.

“Too late.” Oikawa crossed his arms around his chest. “No backsies.”

“You’re a _child._ ” Kenji groaned, throwing an arm across his face in exasperation. Oikawa wrestled the arm off and pinned it down on the bedspread. Kenji would normally struggle, but he wasn’t bothered enough, so he just glared pointedly.

“You like me, though.” Oikawa said bluntly. “As in, you have more-than-platonic feelings for me.”

It was not phrased as a question, and it irked at Kenji that Oikawa somehow figured it out before himself. Color rose to his cheeks. “So?” Kenji shot back hotly. “If you’re feeling burdened or whatever, you can leave at any time.” It was not romantic at all.

“Now we both know that I’m not leaving any time soon.”

“Do we?” Kenji muttered. “You don’t need the help of a failure of an assassin..”

“Is that what this is all about?” Oikawa accused. “I so obviously didn’t mean that. And besides, I thought you made it abundantly clear than you would be overjoyed by my departure.”

“Yeah.” Kenji said. “I thought so too.”

“Clearly, that’s no longer the case.” Oikawa tilted his head. “You should’ve told me something.”

“I thought you were a demon, and that sentiments were above you.”

“And I thought you were the one who reminded me that I used to be a human too, and that emotions are to be cherished.”

“Why are we arguing over this?” Kenji complained, rolling his eyes, and keeping them held there, concentrating on a strip of faded paint on the ceiling. Anything was better than Oikawa’s somber look.

“You were the one getting defensive over nothing.” Oikawa pointed out.

“Oh sure, just put all the blame on me, like everyone always does.” Kenji bristled. “Is something the matter? No worries, just pin it on Kenji. He causes enough trouble, what’s one more blame?”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“You’re not my mom.”

“I’m not going to leave.”

“Whoa, don’t let my useless emotions hold you back.”

“You know what the problem with you is?” Oikawa said loudly. “You’re too self-important.”

“That’s cute, coming from you.”

“Will you let me talk?”

Kenji grunted, but remained silent.

Oikawa sighed, then spoke again. “You think I’d be here if I didn’t want to? Just who do you think you are? Have you considered that maybe I like being around you because I like you?”

If Kenji weren’t so deeply wallowed in self-hatred and fatigue, he might’ve combusted into an embarrassing mess then and there, but Oikawa’s timing was abysmal as usual, so instead Kenji spat back. “What’s there to like?”

“You’re really doing this to me? You’re just asking me to list out traits that I like about you? Where’s the fun in that?” Oikawa raised his eyebrows.

“After I accidentally proclaimed my burning passion towards you, I think I deserve to hear a thing or two about your thoughts.”

“Fine, here’s a teaser.” Oikawa cleared his throat. “One thing I like about you are you eyes. They are very nicely shaped, and they are a pretty color. Most importantly, I like them when they are looking at me, because they don’t see me as some sort of monster or abomination. The distaste in them are purely because of my awful disposition and nothing else.”

“...I asked you for a random compliment, not a heartfelt speech.”

“I think it worked just fine.” Oikawa beamed obnoxiously, clearly taking great joy in the way Kenji was rendered dumb. “That got to you, didn’t it?”

“Asking questions you already know the answer to only makes you an ass.” He said instead.

Oikawa dipped his head down even lower. They were practically breathing the same air at that point.

“Hey, Kenji.” Oikawa murmured. “Can I maybe kiss you?”

 _No!_ Screamed his Voice Of Reason. _YES!_ Screeched his Voice Of Fuck Reason. Somewhere between that, then. “Okay.” Kenji said. And in an instant, Oikawa was closing in, and his mind went blank.

The lights were still lazy, and the air was still moist. The sun had sunken already, and Kenji’s stuff were scattered on the ground, but none of that really mattered anymore, not when he was drowning in his own head.

He wasn’t really used to being kissed. He hoped he was doing okay. Oikawa had sunken his weight down, making it easier for them to contact.

His brain felt a little fuzzy, and Oikawa pressed even closer. It was really really warm. Something soft prodded at Kenji’s lips, and he sighed involuntarily.

His mouth slid open without him noticing, and he tasted wine.

 _Unfair_ , his hazy brain thought, because he couldn’t recall Oikawa being near any drink as fancy as _wine_ all this time, before diving back into complete and utter nonsensical thoughts.

The sharp tint of sudden coldness on his lips informed him that Oikawa had moved away, and he almost growled in protest. It didn’t go unnoticed, because the next thing he heard was Oikawa’s voice impossibly close to his ear, a low laughter sending shivers down his spine. “Open your eyes, will you?” he said, all amused and relaxed. Kenji turned his head away, keeping his eyes stubbornly closed. “No.” he said. “You can’t make me.” his words slurred together, betraying how exhausted he truly was. His eyelids felt heavy. He wasn’t going to force them open just to get attacked with Oikawa’s no doubt smug face.

“Come on. I want to see them.” Oikawa argued, lips falling gently on Kenji’s cheek, jaw, the corner of his mouth. He scrunched up his brows in annoyance, and batted blindly, pushing Oikawa’s face away. “Business hours are over,” he declared. “Come back tomorrow.”

“But what if I’m seeking for private affairs.”

Okay. His voice had no business sounding as deep as it did, and Kenji scowled. Another kiss dropped between his eyebrows, smoothing the wrinkles there.

“I’m too tired for your bullshit.” he grumbled. “And I literally have no reason to open my eyes. There’s nothing worthwhile to look at anyway.”

“Excuse you, my angelic face is literally gazing lovingly down at you.”

“Like I said, nothing worthwhile.”

An undignified squawk that sounded half offended, half endeared fills the room, and Kenji would never admit the way his heart sped up just a little faster.

“I’ll make you open your eyes, one way or another.” Oikawa threatened, and Kenji fought the urge to smile.

“Try me.” he taunted right back, bracing himself for whatever dumb antique that was definitely headed right his way.

Then there was a pressure between his thighs, and Kenji bolted upright, eyes flying open. Crap. What greeted him was the victorious full shit-eating grin on Oikawa’s face. “Made you look.” he sing-sang.

“You’re a pervert.” he shoved Oikawa on the shoulders, hard, and felt slightly better when Oikawa fell onto his back, wind knocked out. Then he crawled over, glaring at him from above in what he hoped was an intimidating stare, but Oikawa only laughed, and sneaked an insistent hand up to cradle Kenji’s face tenderly, thumb pressing against the sharp angles of his cheekbone. “There you are.” His voice was no louder than a whisper, and Kenji was suddenly aware of how much blood was rushing up to his face.

“I hate you.” he gritted his teeth, but there was no real venom to it, as they both know. How was Oikawa so infuriatingly handsome?

“And yet you’re still here.” Oikawa retorted, eyes clear and focused. They broke contact with Kenji’s own eyes after a beat, then they lingered on his lips for awhile as Kenji tried his hardest to will off the redness of his cheeks. He really needed to learn to stop blushing so easily. His gaze continued to roam, it ravaged across Kenji’s bare neck and parts of his shoulders, before trailing down the lines of his chest and down to his hips, where it burned a hole in the tiny sliver of skin where Kenji’s shirt failed to cover.

It was almost fascinating, watching Oikawa being so engrossed with his figure. It was flattering in a way, but more embarrassing in the end. Kenji tried not to squirm. Oikawa’s eyes were moving again, and Kenji thought it was a relief, before realizing that they were not coming back up, but rather further down, and his brain short-circuited. He hit Oikawa over the head, and wished his voice was somewhat steady. “Hey! You only said you wanted to see my eyes, and the last time I checked, they’re up here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Oikawa’s eyes immediately snapped back, and they resumed being completely fixed on Kenji’s own eyes. “Are you lonely up here?” They are a mesmerizing brown, and Kenji gave himself a mental slap across the face to stay focused.

He swallowed, mouth dry. Oikawa’s eyes flitted down to follow the motion, and Kenji huffed in irritation. “I don’t know who it was that taught you anything about romance, but I’m pretty sure that grabbing at a guy’s crotch gets you struck out.”

“Are you striking me out then?” Oikawa once again proved himself to be shameless, as he batted his eyes flirtily, accompanied by the audacity to pout.

It was really bad for Kenji’s health.

What was even more vexing was that Kenji couldn’t for the life of him figure out a good comeback. “Shut up.” he settled lamely.

Oikawa laughed, and it was making Kenji stupidly enamored. When Oikawa spread his arms out, Kenji folds himself into his embrace like the weak-willed fool he was. There was truly no escape after all.

 _I think I might be falling in love with you_. He thought, then he said it out loud, just to test out how the words would weigh on his tongue. Oikawa’s smile bloomed against Kenji’s shoulder, slow and nice. “You’re only realizing that now?” He asked without moving his head. “I better put in more effort, then.” The sounds vibrate on his skin. It itched. Kenji decided that he liked it. He liked it very much.

“What about you?” he asked absentmindedly.

“What about me?” Oikawa asked. “I tried to grab at your crotch. What do you think?”

“I think you’re only after me for my body.”

He grinned when he heard Oikawa mock-gasp. “How dare you imply that I am as vain as being driven by appearances alone? I’d like you to know that I’m equally attracted to your horrible personality and dreadfully slow mind.”

“I truly am the all-in-one delight package, aren’t I?” Kenji snorted.

“That you are.”

 

They dozed off with ankles knocking, and it was a bit too crowded, but whatever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know the last two chapters have been sort of short but dw the final chapter is extra long bc of it ^^  
> and because I gotta wrap it up nicely


	6. We'll hold still

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this last part was the hardest for me to edit, personally because i'm always so conflicted about how things should turn out  
> I hope this conclusion is satisfactory  
> And huge thanks to anyone who made it this far into the story. I really really appreciate it <3

_Don’t wish. Don’t hope. Don’t dream._

_If he died, then there would be no point._

_Keep calm._

_The sound of his front gates burning up in flames._

_Focus._

_The doors burst open._

_Feel._

_The flash of a knife._

_There it is! He reached out, grabbing the owner of that brandishing arm. He zoomed in on that face. It was equal parts confused, terrified, and enraged. Perfect._

Tag, you’re it.

* * *

 The next morning arrived way faster than Kenji would’ve preferred, but time moved as it did, and it waited for no one.

He kicked Oikawa in the shin. “Up.” His mouth was dry, and he reached for his canteen of water while Oikawa stirred and wrestled for consciousness. “Change into your cute little dress and we gotta get going.”

“It’s too early.” Oikawa protested into his pillow.

“No, it’s not too early.” Kenji yanked the pillow out from under his head. He changed into his travel attire in a haste and drew back the curtain blinds, letting the merciless daylight charge into the room. “We still have grounds to cover and personal issues to discuss.”

“Can’t we do it here?”

Kenji yelped as he was swept off his feet and brought back onto the bed, where Oikawa fastened his arms around his waist tightly. “Can’t we just stay here forever?” he mumbled, eyelids dripping.

Kenji slapped his arm, hard. “Get up already.”

“You are very very mean to me.” Oikawa said, but gave in and finally made an effort to part from the bed.

Kenji ended up needing to physically pry the blankets from Oikawa and manhandle him down the stairs. At least he had the decency to transform into Nametsu Mai, but the inquiring gaze that followed him all the way out the front door was still deeply humiliating.

“I’ll let you in on a secret.” Oikawa whispered against Kenji’s neck, breath tickling his skin. He suddenly remembered a similar scenario that felt like it took place lifetimes ago, when they first became acquainted due to the kingdom falling apart.

“Yeah?”

“I’m actually crazy scared about losing my powers.” he sent a little twirl of sparks into Kenji’s hair. “Like, it was just given to me. What if it was taken away again one day?”

“Then you’d get to be normal. Just like me.”

“But better looking.”

“Sure.” Kenji rolled his eyes fondly. “But seriously. Don’t worry about it.”

Oikawa hummed thoughtfully. “Will you protect me then? When I can no longer defend myself?”

“Don’t be stupid. You literally tied our souls together.” Kenji murmured. “What else am I to do?”

* * *

 The road was long, but it was what they needed to follow.

“So.” Oikawa started, back with his floating trick. “You mentioned the discussion of personal issues this morning.”

“I did.”

“Okay, here’s a topic. Me, afraid of admitting my past. Trust issues?” he struck a gesture cheerfully, waving his hands. “Discuss.”

Kenji shot him an unimpressed glare. “What did I say about treating your emotional scars as jokes.”

“How was that a joke?” Oikawa protested, voicing his objections out loud. He huffed. “Fine. What do you think about my coping mechanisms? Obviously you think they suck, but be more elaborate.”

“I think they suck.” Kenji said straightaway. “I think you need to let yourself _heal_.”

“That is way too vague.” Oikawa complained, landing down next to him and matching his strides. They were now shoulder by shoulder, and Kenji never noticed, but he and Oikawa were about the same height. Minus his huge bulky horns, that was. “I’ve never felt like I’m trying to _not_ heal. What’s the difference?”

The day was a pleasant one, cool and clear. A soft wind is blowing, making flowers bloom all over.

“The difference is,” Kenji started, walking around a tiny puddle on the ground. “You’re no longer king.”

“Excuse me?”

“You no longer have to deal with keeping up a facade. You're literally a blank piece of paper now, and you’re allowed to start over. Not many people get the chance to do so.” he explained, letting his gaze flit down the road. “But _you_ do. Let it hurt. You can start by channeling your emotions into activities that aren’t murder.”

“There are activities other than murder?” Oikawa asked mockingly.

“You could talk to a professional about it.” Kenji tossed him a pointed look and raised his eyebrows. “I know a guy-”

“You seem to know a lot of guys.”

Kenji laughed. “I get around.”

“And how do you think your guy can cope with counseling a supposedly dead demon nightmare?”

Kenji thought about Ennoshita Chikara and his no nonsense attitude. “I think he’ll be fine. But if you don’t want to, I heard keeping a journal helps.”

Oikawa’s shoulder shook in laughter. “I might give the journal a try, then. But I think I’d just fill up all the pages with your name.” There was a deliberate teasing tint in his chortle. Kenji couldn’t decide if it was flattering or mortifying.

“You’re being ridiculous.” he said, casting his gaze downwards to mask his embarrassment, and great, now he couldn’t stop staring at the way the both of their hands were swinging in between them, missing by just a few centimeters. If he moved his pinky just a little bit to the right, he could brush it against the back of Oikawa’s hand.

_What a dumb thought._

He jerked his vision away forcefully, trying his best to chuck the dumb thought back in the dumpster where it belonged.

Oikawa did not notice Kenji’s inner turmoil at all. “Ridiculously _bewitched by you._ ” he grinned infuriatingly.

Kenji groaned dramatically as Oikawa guffawed beside him.

“You’re insufferable.” he grouched.

“And _you’re_ constantly needlessly harsh to me.” Oikawa stretched his arms upward to relax his muscles, and when he lowered them, he’d transformed into Nametsu Mai. “I’m a _sensitive_ soul.”

Kenji studied him. “What’s up with your weird thing about Nametsu Mai?”

“What?” Oikawa made a funny face, changing back into himself. “I don’t have a weird thing about Nametsu Mai.”

“You have this... strange obsession.” Kenji told him.

Oikawa stared dumbly. “Define ‘strange obsession’.”

“You get into this, sort of a high, when you’re posing as Nametsu Mai.” Kenji said, feeling frustrated over the lack of proper words for his explanation. “I don’t know if you notice this, but you glow.”

“Why, thank you.” he preened.

“Be serious.”

“Sorry.”

“As I was saying,” Kenji continued, dismissing the flicker of troubling endearment. “You always seem like you’re having fun when you’re being Nametsu Mai. Oikawa Tooru? Not so much. I mean yeah you still laugh and make dumb jokes, but it’s like you still have a crown on your head.”

Oikawa cocked his head. “Interesting observation, but I wouldn’t call it ‘ _having a weird thing about Nametsu Mai_ ’.”

“What would you call it?”

He didn’t answer right away, instead, he fired out a question of his own. “What happens when we meet the end of the road?”

The road to where? This journey? Life? The literal dirt road they were on? He took a blind guess. “I would assume we get back to Date.” Kenji replied. “I report to my duties, you do… whatever it is you plan on doing? I’m not sure. You’ve never told me. What is it you’re doing again?”

“ _Exactly_ .” Oikawa said, voice rising with increasing volume. “There’s no _destination_ for Oikawa Tooru. Nametsu Mai on the other hand, she’s going back to Wakutani to visit her parents. Her older sister is getting married soon, and she’s making sure her sister’s wearing the most stunning gown anyone has ever seen. She has a _goal_ . She knows what she’s doing. Oikawa Tooru acts like he _knows_ what he’s doing, but he has no idea where he’s headed.”

It looked like Oikawa had put a lot of thought into forming Nametsu Mai. Kenji wondered if she was based off of anyone, or if she was just a idealistic idea of the life Oikawa would've been happy with. Would Oikawa even tell him if he asked?

“Do you want to go to Wakutani then?”

“Why would I? I don’t have a family there.”

“Oh.”

“What I’m saying is, I would really miss being Nametsu Mai.” Oikawa concluded simply. There was a light knit in his eyebrows, but other than that, he seemed almost impassive.

“Why?”

He let out a long sigh, shoulders dropping. “Everyone likes Nametsu Mai. That’s way more than I can say for Oikawa Tooru, Demon King.”

Kenji thought about it. “That’s because Nametsu Mai is a cute girl and Oikawa Tooru is a blood-chilling menace.”

“So you think Nametsu Mai is cute.” Oikawa said dryly. “You like Nametsu Mai better too, don’t you?”

“Are you… jealous of yourself?” Kenji had to strain his facial muscles keep himself from breaking into laughter. “Did I make out with Oikawa Tooru last night or Nametsu Mai?”

“Are you saying you _wouldn’t_ make out with Nametsu Mai?”

“Of course that’s the part you decide to hyper-focus on.” Kenji hid a smile as best as he could manage, which was probably not very well. It didn’t really matter, though. “They’re both _you_ , dumbass.”

Oikawa didn’t look very convinced. Which was just dumb. But Kenji knew about unknowingly growing skeptical of one’s self, so he would humor Oikawa if that’s what he needed. “If it makes you feel any better, I dislike Nametsu Mai about the same level I dislike Oikawa Tooru, personally.”

“Really?”

Kenji shifted, and caught Oikawa’s fingers with his own. He felt the other tense, then loosening up. Carefully, Kenji threaded their fingers together. He wasn’t sure where he got that extra boost of _cheesiness_ , but it did feel nice holding Oikawa’s hand. It was smoother than he expected. Sneakily, he thought, _Now I’ve finally got you where I want you._ “Promise.”

The way Oikawa perked up immediately was a bit comical.

“Okay. That’s enough, then.”

The sun gleamed down brightly.

* * *

 In the end, they never made it to Date together. At the very last leg of the journey, Oikawa spoke up.

“I think I’m going to try to go back home.”

“Home?” Kenji tried to process the sudden announcement.

Oikawa nodded. “My village. The wreckage of my village. Something. Pay my family an overdue visit. Maybe make them a grave. Let their spirits find peace, I guess.” Oikawa shrugged. “Maybe then I can move on and finally know what I want to do now. I mean I never really got to decide as a kid.”

“That sounds like a solid plan.” Kenji agreed. “Probably the _right_ decision, too, because I have no idea how I’m supposed to smuggle a dead demon back to Date without you having to live as Nametsu Mai permanently.”

“You said you didn’t have a problem with Nametsu Mai.” Oikawa accused.

“I don’t. But it would be a pity if I never got to see Oikawa Tooru again.” he admitted, the words slipping out easier than he’d anticipated.

“You are a sap.” Oikawa’s voice was tinged with wonder. “Great Furudate, you’re a _sap_.”

“Shut it.”

Oikawa smiled. It was the most genuine one he’d seen on him, after all this time, and Kenji was suddenly short of breath. _Stupid lungs not doing their job. Life was unfair._

“So, this is goodbye. Any regrets?” Kenji asked in a rush, at the end of the road.

Oikawa went quiet for a moment, organizing his thoughts. “We won’t get to go to Wakutani.”

Kenji blinked. “Well, that’s your own fault for choosing Wakutani as your cover story. You could’ve chosen literally any town we dropped in on the way, but _noooo_.” he rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you should be complaining.”

Oikawa pulled a face. “You know what the problem with you is, Kenji?”

“You have a different answer every time.” Kenji said. “Let’s hear the newest edition.”

“You’re too…” Oikawa gestured sharply, but no words came.

Kenji could feel a smile crawling on his face without his consent. “Never thought I’d live to see the day Oikawa Tooru gets tongue-tied.”

Oikawa puffed out a breathy sound, and finally found his voice. “Well. Consider yourself blessed.” He tugged at the edge of his cape, and that was when Kenji finally picked up on his restless mannerism.

“You know.” Kenji delivered monotonously. “It’s okay to be nervous.”

Oikawa spluttered loudly as he tried, and _failed_ , to keep a cool and collected image. “Why would I be nervous? I’ve been travelling for weeks now.”

“You can still be nervous about things you’ve done before.” Kenji notified him. “But if you’ve already decided it’s what you want to do, you’ve just got to take the step forward to move forward.”

“Look at you, all wise and philosophical.”

Kenji scowled. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I apologize.”

They fell into an awkward lapse. Something lay uncomfortably unspoken between the two. It probably had something to do with the sense of uncertainty swirling in the deep of Kenji’s stomach. “You’ll be careful.” He said. “You won’t let any unconvinced assassin take you out.”

“You’ve seen me in action. I can take them.” Oikawa assured him.

“Not even other magic users.” Kenji pressed on. “I heard the Miya twins are on the loose. Not even them.”

“Not even them.”

“You won’t let yourself be stupidly distracted.”

“If you’re not there, why would I be distracted?”

Kenji wanted to believe him and his presumptuous grin.

“This doesn’t mean goodbye forever, does it?”

“I would hope not.” Oikawa replied, looking much less tense than before. “I mean, that’s the good part about not having a fixed plan. I could always take the long way round.”

“If you’ll even want to come visit me.” Kenji joked. “I bet in two days you’d have completely forgotten about me.”

Oikawa poked him in the ribs. “You of little faith. I _will_ come back. Maybe not right away, but I will.” An impish gleam flashed in his eyes. “You better be waiting and prepared at all times. You never know when I’d just suddenly pop up at Date and announce myself as your fiance. That way you’ll never have anywhere to run to.”

The declaration made Kenji happier than he would dare to admit. He felt all warm and gooey inside. Gross. One thing though, “Just to be clear, not with your own face, right? Because I’m pretty sure Date still-”

“Loathes me with an immeasurable fury. Yeah yeah I know. I don’t have a death wish.” Oikawa rubbed at his neck sheepishly.

They were running out of things to say.

Kenji took the time to observe.

Oikawa stood there, a demon, the horns poking out of his skull was the perfect indication. And there was also his magic. His awful, amazing magic. Kenji wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with that train of thought. Nowhere, probably, as thoughts of Oikawa usually went.

“About the whole soul-binding thing.” Oikawa said at last. “I think I can break it now, if you want.”

He raised his eyebrows at that. “The cats are the right amount?”

“Perfect amount.” Oikawa nodded solemnly. “We might never find a timing so perfect.”

Kenji thought about the bond, and the invisible red string attaching them together. It didn’t feel real.

“You want me gone?” He asked absent-mindedly.

“It’s not that.” Oikawa quickly clarified. “It’s just. I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.”

“You haven’t brought me any pain throughout the last month except a major headache, and I don’t think that’s from the bond.” Kenji said to him. “Leave it.”

Oikawa shrugged. “Well, I won’t be able to sever it without your permission anyway.”

Kenji nodded, satisfied. “And if I wake up in the middle of the night with a searing pain, I’d know to go retrieve your stupid ass.”

“Fair point.” Oikawa agreed. “I’ll try to refrain that from happening.”

“Take care of yourself, okay?” Kenji said.

“Yeah. You too. We’ll save that Wakutani trip for another time.” Oikawa suggested. “I mean, you’re into that free roaming spirit thing, right? We could go to Wakutani and even further than that.”

It sounded tempting. _Really_ tempting. Much more desirable than whatever boring job that was waiting for Kenji in Date anyway. But Date was his home, and he finally realized that he missed it dearly. He’d like to go on that trip some day, but he was getting ahead of himself. He reeled back the excitement jumping in his veins into something milder.

“That would be something to look forward to, then.” Kenji’s mouth felt a little dry. “Say goodbye to Yuki.”

Oikawa turned to the horse with great seriousness. He petted the steed on the snout. He looked bored, mostly, but stayed in position.

“I don’t know you all that well, but since I named you, I feel like I have a responsibility over you.” Oikawa said to him. “You were a good horse, just there in the background, but reliable when needed. It was a pity that we didn’t get to see you in action, or display any distinctive personality other than your insatiable appetite. But I would miss you. Maybe.”

Yuki didn’t reply, obviously. It would’ve been freaky if he did.

They really hadn’t been very good to Yuki these past few weeks. He could do with a fresh start. Kenji thought that he would give him to Aone. From what he remembered, Aone was good with animals, and handled them with care, which was more than Kenji could say for himself.

“I’m going to go, then.” He said.

“Take this.” Oikawa said, nimbly tying Nametsu Mai’s ribbon on his wrist. “That should give the single girls in Date a sign.”

“A token of your affection.” Kenji brought it closer to inspect it. “Old fashioned but sweet.”

“Now you give me something.” Oikawa instructed, a mischievous light glimmering in his eyes.

“I don’t have anything to give?” Kenji reminded him, dubious. There was his bow and arrows, and his sword. But none of those seemed particularly gift-worthy. Besides, he doubted Oikawa would have much use with weapons.

“Nothing _material_.” Oikawa shrugged innocently. His intention was honestly clearer than the light of day.

Kenji huffed, and if there was any fondness detected, he would blame it on the trail of magic circling around them merrily. He leaned forward, and gave Oikawa a quick peck on the cheek. Then he pulled back to raise his eyebrows at the demon. “Happy now?”

“Very.” The demon’s radiant look was the single most mesmerizing sight Kenji had ever seen.

* * *

 What happens at the end of the road?

Guess they’d have to find out by themselves.

* * *

 

 

> _Contrary to popular belief, Oikawa Tooru was not actually born with his powers._
> 
> _It is notable that simply judging by his outer demeanor, one would assume that he was more powerful than most. Combined with his reputation, most draw the conclusion that he must be a natural-born. This ties in with another common misconception. “Only a natural-born from a family line of natural-borns could possibly possess such power.”_
> 
> _That statement in itself is debatable. What counts as power? What are the standards for measuring the requirements to qualify as powerful?_
> 
> _Regardless of the ever-changing criteria, Oikawa Tooru at least unarguably surpasses the average abilities of magic users greatly._
> 
> _That is possibly the reason no one thought to trace back to the fallen demon king’s roots._
> 
> _The farthest researchers had gotten was only as far as the Date Massacre. Until me, that is._
> 
> _Before I dive into the details, I would like to clarify that I am no researcher, no scribe, no historian. I am simply a man fortunate enough to hear the tale from the Demon myself._
> 
> _Of course, there’s no guarantee that Oikawa Tooru had not been lying to me, but I’d rather believe his story._
> 
> _This is a personal journey._
> 
> _I will not be excusing for any of Oikawa Tooru’s actions during his rule, but I hope to shine him in a different light than usual: his light. He lived in a different world from ours, and I believe we should at least try to understand what his was like. Perhaps it can offer some insight to other lost souls._
> 
> _I might sound a little biased here. But it’s impossible for me to dissociate completely, because I’ve always been very involved in the situation. Like I said, this is a personal journey._
> 
> _I repeat what I’ve stated in the beginning: Oikawa Tooru was not born demon._
> 
> _In fact, he was born ordinary in an ordinary family with ordinary parents and an even more ordinary heritage._
> 
> _He grew up in an ordinary household in an ordinary village: Kitagawa. With an ordinary sister who taught him the most extraordinary things about the world._
> 
> _That was more or less all that he was willing to share for the time being._
> 
> _I’m sure some still remember the Flood of Kitagawa. The flood struck when Oikawa Tooru was twelve. The village was wiped out and Oikawa Tooru drowned._
> 
> _When he opened his eyes again, he’d been magical._

 As seen above is an excerpt of a modernized version of what is known as The Unofficial Records of Oikawa Tooru.

They are a collection of stories that paint the villain in a more sympathetic light, or rather, more humane light.

It is unclear as to who the narrator of these tales are, other than the fact that the narrator is male. There were only a handful of people that Oikawa Tooru trusted, even less that he might’ve opened up to. Researchers have narrowed down the possibilities to either Iwaizumi Hajime, who was known to share a history with Oikawa Tooru back in their childhood days; Kageyama Tobio, successor to the Aoba throne and past apprentice of Oikawa Tooru; or Kuroo Tetsurou, Oikawa Tooru’s left hand man during his reign. Was it really one of the three, or was it someone else entirely, no one can tell for sure. The author stayed anonymous on purpose, and it must be for a reason.

Apart from the discourse concerning the author, there’s also heated debate on whether these tales are true or not. Many Oikawa Tooru experts stand against these Records, claiming that they “didn’t match up to Oikawa Tooru’s personality”, and that Oikawa Tooru seemed “too tender” in these pages. But following the Records’ directions, a group of historians have uncovered the remains of the Oikawa household in the ruins of Kitagawa (see fig.1) , as well as what might’ve been Oikawa Tooru’s childhood portraits. (see fig.2) These uncanny evidence proves that the Records hold some truth to them, if not the whole truth.

Another controversial topic among the field is the true nature of the relationship between the anonymous author and Oikawa Tooru. Reading through the pages, it is clear that the author views Oikawa Tooru fondly, with a grudging admiration towards his subject.

As stated in the Records: _I have come to regard Oikawa Tooru as a companion of sorts. Him and his stupidly pretty face. Sure, the guy’s an asshole and has a terrible grasp on general human decency, but he’s trying his best, and I don’t think there’s anyone in the world that could possibly feel prouder of him._

Some scholars believe that the terms of endearment suggest romantic undertones beneath the surface, while others insist that their involvement is strictly platonic, since there is no explicit proof to a romantic relation.

For more information, visit our [official site](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ).

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Nekoma’s double mages uncovered. A look at the conflicted sides of the Kingdom of Glory 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as promised, a [link](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1AO_3P6iumCUUrAZUSYkaw6JT_2HX0QID8H2dXSeACv4/edit) to my notes  
> maybe it will answer some lingering questions

**Author's Note:**

> I've finished writing the whole thing, and now I'm only editing and tweaking the small details.  
> Hopefully chapter two will be released soon but honestly I don't know when I will be allowed on the computer again


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